


Willingly

by dreaminginvelvet



Category: Aladdin (1992), Aladdin: The Animated Series
Genre: Bondage, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Undertones, Dubious Consent, F/M, Light Bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-05-31 15:31:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19428850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreaminginvelvet/pseuds/dreaminginvelvet
Summary: Jasmine/Jafar LEMON ONE-SHOT. Mature readers only. When Jasmine stumbles upon something she shouldn't have seen, unfamiliar feelings and desires turn her life upside down. Jafar decides to pay her a visit.





	Willingly

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note: MATURE READERS ONLY. Be warned- there is somewhat dubious consent in this story. This is written as a sort of taboo thriller, and clearly this wouldn’t fly in real life. 
> 
> That being said, I am oh so pleased that my best friend asked me to write this because she has shown me A WHOLE NEW WORLDDDDD aka the Jasmine/Jafar pairing. See what I did there…heh, heh.
> 
> Reviews make me write faster! <3
> 
> -DreamingInVelvet

Author’s Note: MATURE READERS ONLY. Be warned- there is somewhat dubious consent in this story. This is written as a sort of taboo thriller, and clearly this wouldn’t fly in real life.

That being said, I am oh so pleased that my best friend asked me to write this because she has shown me A WHOLE NEW WORLDDDDD aka the Jasmine/Jafar pairing. See what I did there…heh, heh.

Reviews make me write faster! <3

“You’re sure of this?” The old man’s question echoed softly through the throne room.

“Without question, my liege. Several members of our espionage forces planted across the Sahara have reported the rumors -the attack could be any day now.” The captain of the royal guard answered in a booming voice.

The room fell silent.

Jasmine looked up from her seat at her father’s right hand, observing the captain with rapt curiosity. Although she’d grown rather tired, having been cooped up in meetings concerning the kingdom all day, the news brought in by the captain dramatically rushing in moments ago had fully woken her up.

The large man knelt respectfully on a single knee on the intricate mosaic floor, awaiting a response. His hands were large, scarred with the evidence of the peril he’d faced in service of the royal family. 

Surely with this austere, formidable man in charge of the safety of the royal family, no would-be assassin could breach the palace walls, the princess thought to herself. It was impossible to entertain the notion. With the constant vigilance of the royal guard, not one serious attempt had ever been made on her father’s life. 

She was brought out of her thoughts by the motion of her father’s hand, waving for the captain to continue his report.

“We have not been able to confirm the identity of the plotter. But our agents have witnessed him making inquiries about the routine of our guard. We attempted to apprehend him while he was purchasing weapons in a village market less than a day’s from Agrabah, but regrettably, he managed to escape.” The captain finished bitterly.

At this, the fourth person in the room let out a dark chuckle. 

Jasmine stiffened.

“All the men in the service of the royal guard failed to capture one solitary suspect? How... _unfortunate_.” 

With a sweep of his cape, the speaker stepped forward from the shadows at Sultan’s left side. Jafar, the constant companion of her father’s ear, looked down at the captain with condescension written on his angular face. The man looked up at the vizier apprehensively.

“We shall be doubling the royal guard, your grace,” the captain responded, his unease in the presence of the advisor palpable, “the Sultan and the Princess will come to no harm under our watch.”

Jafar scoffed derisively, turning away from the man as if he wasn’t even there.

“Your Highness,” the vizier said smoothly, “given that your... _trusted_...guard has failed to cease the nefarious plot of a single schemer, I humbly offer my services in their place. With my prowess in the enchanted arts, I can ensure that the palace becomes a fortress of safety until this would-be assassin is captured. There is no need for the royal guard to trouble themselves.”

Jasmine regarded him with scorn.

The insolence of this charlatan!

“Thinking a bit highly of yourself, aren’t you, Jafar?” Jasmine interrupted loudly, standing up from her throne to face him irritably. “Isn’t your magic best suited for court amusement?”

Jafar’s kohl-rimmed eyes narrowed considerably as his grip on his golden staff tightened. He clenched his sharp jaw in irritation before pasting a sinister smile on his face.

“Why, Your Highness,” he began in answer, “ _Surely_ you do not mean-”

“The royal guard has protected us for our entire lives, and I trust _them_ to continue to do so. A trained assassin intent on ending the royal lineage won’t be stopped by street fair magic and a talking parrot.” Jasmine cut in, crossing her arms over her chest. “We will _not_ be calling off the royal guard and leaving our lives in your hands.”

She levelled her gaze with his, meeting the dark eyes with her own haughty stare.

“Now, now, Jasmine,” the Sultan admonished absent-mindedly, hopping to the floor to step between the princess and his vizier. He looked up at both of them from his diminutive height with a reproachful expression.

“Father, I am stick of him trying to run your kingdom _for_ you! A vizier should _know his place_ ,” the princess spat, eyeing Jafar with open contempt.

“My dear, Jafar is only trying to be of service to us, as always.” Her father insisted, grasping her hand and patting it comfortingly.

“But father-” 

“We shall accept Jafar’s assistance,” he announced with an air of finality that Jasmine knew she couldn’t change. The vizier’s eyes glittered in triumph before the Sultan continued, “And we shall _also_ double the royal guard until this man is caught.” 

Jafar’s smug expression fell slightly. The older man didn’t seem to notice, and nodded at the captain, who stood up and offered a low bow before leaving the throne room.

“Now, Jasmine, I want you to go straight to your room and stay there for the night. It’s getting dark, and I don’t want to take any chances.” Her father ordered in a stern voice.

Jasmine blanched at the order. After being stuck inside the stifling palace all day, she’d hoped to spend the evening in the garden, cooling off by the fountains.

“If we’re doubling the guards, surely the inner gardens are safe enough for me?” She protested, fixing her father with a pleading expression that usually served to get what she wanted.

However, the Sultan would not be budged.

“It is my job as your father to ensure your safety, and your room is the safest place for you.”

“But father-”

“I shall have four guards stationed right outside to be prepared. No more arguments, Jasmine- off you go.” He waved her off.

She sighed inwardly, resigned to her fate.

“Indeed, we wouldn’t want our princess to find herself in any… peril.”

Jafar’s odd choice of words made her look up - his black eyes bored into hers contemptuously. The way he looked down at her from his imperious height made her suddenly; _irrationally_ ; feel small, and exposed.

With a flick of her long ponytail, she turned on her heel and stalked off down the mosaic corridor. Only when she made her way through the palace, past the guards and to the safety of her room, did she let the shiver she’d been fighting off run through her frame.

It wasn’t a secret that she held Jafar in sincere contempt. Ever since her father had appointed the magician as his trusted vizier, she’d seen right through his grasps for power, and she had no problem with treating him as the charlatan she knew him to be.

But something tonight had been different- he was far more affected by her derision that she’d ever known him to be- and why had his words seemed like a threat?

Locking the door behind her, she walked into the large, open space of her opulent room, sitting down on the edge of her bed to remove her slippers. Rajah purred sleepily from the floor next to her, and she smiled despite her foul mood, giving the tiger an affectionate pat on the head.

With a sigh, she finished kicking off her slippers and removed her jewelry, standing up to find an outfit more suitable for the warm night. Leaning down to open a large chest at the foot of her bed, she was met instantly with a dress the exact same crimson color of Jafar’s cape.

Suddenly, the image of him looming over her, fixing her with that spiteful gaze flashed through her mind.

Jasmine let out a loud, frustrated growl and threw the dress onto the floor as if it had burned her.

Instantly, several guards’ voices cut through her door.

“Princess Jasmine?”

“Is everything alright, your highness?”

Jasmine wanted to scream.

She took a deep breath and held her hand to her head, silently cursing herself for advocating for an increase in the royal guard.

“Yes, everything is fine, thank you,” She called out in what she hoped was a calm voice.

“Apologies, your highness. We stand at the ready should you require anything, Princess Jasmine.” One of the guards answered.

She sighed quietly. While she reasonably understood that it was wise to have the extra guard, the close proximity and scrutiny was making her feel more stifled than she already was. She turned around, facing her balcony.

Then a thought occurred to her.

It wasn’t very princesslike, or even ladylike, but she couldn’t be bothered to care.

Giving the offending red dress one last glare, she quickly changed into a lightweight silk nightgown and tied a long robe around her frame. Stepping into some soft evening slippers, she gathered up the long silk curtains from her balcony door. She quickly tied them to the balcony post and flung them over the edge, as she’d done on many occasions as a rebellious child. 

Risking a glance back at her bedroom, and staunchly ignoring Rajah’s reproachful expression, she swept over the side of the balcony and shimmied down to the courtyard below.

She smiled to herself when her feet landed safely on the ground below, congratulating herself on a job well done. A glance around the gardens told her that at least the outer quarters of the palace seemed to be devoid of guards- finally, a stroke of luck.

The inner gardens always looked all the more beautiful by moonlight, and she instantly felt more at peace while tiptoeing through the flowers and fountains. 

Letting out a satisfied sigh, she sat down on the edge of a large fountain, absently watching her reflection in the water. She reached a hand into the cool liquid, stirring the lilies inside into a graceful dance.

She was so lost in her thoughts, that she almost missed the movement behind her in the water’s reflection. 

Thinking she’d been caught by a guard, she turned around, ready to come up with an excuse, but she was met with something else entirely.

From her viewpoint in the shadows of the gardens, she could see a dark figure standing on the rooftop of the palace. A long black rope swung down the side of the palace walls, and the figure grabbed hold of it, slowly climbing down. Jasmine could see that the person was likely a man, with an impressive height and build.

Her heart began to race- was this the assassin the captain of the guard had warned her father about? 

Frantically, she whirled about, looking for help, but was met with no one. She realized she had been very foolish to not question the absence of the royal guard.

Knowing now that she’d have to raise the alarm herself, she crept through the gardens, heart hammering in her chest as she stuck to the shadows. The figure had made his way down to the breezeway off of the first floor, landing silently on the tile.

He turned to head towards the side door, and the moonlight glinted off of something at his waist- _a sword,_ she realized.

She was beginning to become frantic, and was about to do something incredibly unwise when suddenly another figure came into sight.

There was no mistaking his height, or his billowing cape.

Jafar had materialized out of the shadows, right in front of the assassin.

The trespasser jumped back, clearly surprised, and drew his sword. He lunged at the vizier, slashing viciously with his saber. Jafar fluidly sidestepped the attacks, blocking and parrying the strikes with his golden snake staff. The dark figure reached behind his back and suddenly produced a shining dagger with his left hand. Jafar barely dodged it, and suddenly his movements changed.

He seemed angry now, as if he had been merely toying with the man before. Using his staff he delivered a blow to his assailant’s head. As the man stumbled backward, Jafar raised his staff. 

Suddenly, the man was lifted in the air, kicking and flailing.

Jasmine could barely believe her eyes - since when had Jafar possessed real, _dangerous_ magic?

Clearly, Jafar had far more power than he had ever let the royal family know. He wasn’t just a court magician with scarcely enough enchantment to amuse the nobility by changing the color of a hat.

He was a true sorcerer, something incredibly rare that Jasmine had only heard tale of in stories of faraway lands. Her mind could barely wrap around the idea that Jafar, of all people, possessed such an ability.

Jafar was reciting something, quietly enough that Jasmine couldn’t hear the words. His snake staff glowed scarlet red, and then the trespasser went deadly still.

Jasmine hadn’t realized until then that she’d been holding her breath.

Staying in the shadows, she watched as Jafar glanced surreptitiously around him, and then motioned with his staff- the still form of the attacker began floating behind him as he stalked away, disappearing behind a nondescript door in the wall.

The shocked princess was already sprinting to follow them as the door clicked shut. Without a second thought, she wrenched the door open, finding a spiral staircase leading down into the dark. 

If it was odd that there seemed to be no sound to Jafar’s footsteps, she didn’t notice. Stepping carefully, she followed the dim glow of red light downwards. Trying to step carefully to remain quiet, her mind and heart raced.

Where had the guards been? Who was the attacker? How did Jafar know where the trespasser would be, and why hadn’t he raised the alarm? 

She paused as she heard Jafar’s low voice echo from further down. It was still too distant to discern what he was saying, so she dared venture a few steps further to try and hear. 

Following the winding stair, she stopped abruptly when she realized she could peek around the curve of the stair to look below. Her almond eyes widened at the scene-

Jafar held the man aloft in the air by simply raising his staff. The would-be attacker seemed to be slowly regaining consciousness.

“Now, answer me. Who sent you?” He drawled lazily, pausing a moment before suddenly brandishing the staff. It seemed to send a wave of pain through the man, who let out a strangled yell.

Although she had no sympathy for this person who had been so clearly intent on hurting her father or even herself, Jasmine flinched despite herself.

“You won’t get anything from me,” the man hissed in a furious voice, looking quite odd suspended in thin air the middle of the room.

Jafar let out a dark chuckle.

“You’ll find that I am a _very_ patient man. I can make this last as long as I wish,” the sorcerer threatened silkily, sending a chill up Jasmine’s spine.

Jafar’s prisoner spat at his feet in response.

Then the man was flying through the air until his back hit the stone wall. He let out a cry of pain, and then began to struggle as dark red glowing ropes appeared out of nowhere and wrapped themselves around him.

Jafar advanced upon the man, his height making him all the more threatening, and Jasmine found that she couldn’t look away. He owned the room; he was in complete control. She’d never seen him so in his element.

“Comfortable, are we?” Jafar jeered as the man fought against the magical bindings that pinned him to the wall.

Jasmine’s heart felt like it was going to hammer out of her chest. 

The assassin continued to struggle fruitlessly as Jafar rounded on him. He swept his staff in an arch, and the man hissed in pain.

“You _will_ tell me who you work for.” Jafar commanded, black eyes glittering in the dim light. His prisoner let out a whimper as more pain washed over him.

“He’d kill me if I told you,” The man gasped, breaking out in a sweat.

“Simple fool. That is _nothing_ compared to what I have planned for you if you refuse me.”

Jasmine swallowed hard. She was utterly compelled by the power dynamic unfolding before her. Why couldn’t she look away? 

“Tell me, do you enjoy pain?” Jafar asked in a deceptively light tone. He paused for dramatic effect as an expression of panic flashed across the man’s face before it contorted briefly in agony.

It seemed that Jafar had sent just a flash of pain through him, as the man regained his composure a second later. 

He’s _toying_ with him, Jasmine realized.

The thought sent a strange feeling prickling through her.

Jafar swept closer to the man, peering at him with interest.

“I can keep you here as long as I like, you know.” 

Jasmine’s found her gaze wandering, out of focus, as she listened to Jafar’s words. She couldn’t hear the man’s replies, but was enraptured by the silken threats spoken in that low voice she knew so well.

Unbidden, an image came to her mind.

For a split second, she imagined herself to be the prey, pinned to the wall while Jafar hissed dark intentions in her ear. In her mind’s eye, she was thrilled by the feel of the magical ropes against her skin as she struggled- she felt wanted, desired, and controlled. 

Jasmine let out a gasp as she realized what she was imagining.

_What was she doing?_

Jafar’s voice stopped. He’d clearly heard her, and turned his head toward the dark stairwell, trying to peer into the shadows.

All reason abandoned her.

She turned heel and fled, up, up, up the stairs, not caring for the noise she caused, and burst out of the side door. Her soft slippers thudded along the ground as she flew through the courtyard gardens, past the fountains. 

For better or for worse, still no guards obstructed her path as she careened through the palace grounds back to her makeshift rope. With a frantic strength she didn’t know she possessed, she wriggled up to her balcony, clambering over the ledge and then seizing the long curtain back, in some mad fear that Jafar would be following her.

She turned to look out beyond her balcony, but the night air was still and silent. Rushing back into her room, she saw that it was exactly as she left it, right down to the offending crimson dress on the floor.

Jasmine decided she couldn’t look at it again and shoved it harshly under her bed.

Promptly snuffing out the candles in her room, she threw off her outer robe, leaving her in her thin silk nightgown. Heart still racing, she hastily undid her ponytail before flinging herself onto her bed.

For quite some time, the princess simply lay there, long black hair fanned around her, as she tried to process the events of the evening. 

She knew she should tell her father, or the captain of the guard, or someone- _anyone_. 

But all she could think about was her fantasy.

What in all the earth had possessed her mind to imagine such a scene?

It was unthinkable. Impossible. _Contemptible_.

And yet…

She grabbed her hair at her temples, squeezing her eyes shut. She would not think of it anymore. She couldn’t. She would blame it on the shock of the revelation of Jafar’s true power.

And in the morning she would tell her father.

She fell into a fitful sleep…

_She’s alone in a dark room, but she isn’t scared. She’s chosen to be here. She wants to be here._

_Jasmine looks down at her body._

_She is dressed in something similar to her favorite turquoise outfit, but it is the most vibrant shade of crimson._

_The color sets off her deep skin brilliantly, and though it isn’t a shade she would have chosen, she feels powerful._

_Like she was meant to wear it._

_It reminds her of something, or someone…_

_The air in the room shifts. She isn’t alone anymore._

_The thought thrills her._

_A figure appears in the shadows. Tall, elegant, dark._

_She wants it to come closer. Or to be closer to it. She steps forward._

_But she is held back._

_Eerily glowing ropes come from nowhere at all, and slowly wind themselves around her wrists._

_Her arms are lifted over her head, and pin themselves to the cool surface behind her._

_She doesn’t want to be set free._

_The dark figure steps forward, smiling at her._

_It isn’t comforting, but it isn’t frightening._

_It speaks._

_“I can keep you here as long as I like, you know.”_

_The threat is spoken in a low, silken voice._

_An angular, strong face comes into view._

_A predatory smile._

_A twisted beard._

_And dark, glittering eyes, boring straight through her._

_It’s him._

_The realization is electrifying._

_Suddenly, she’s riding a crest of pleasure-_

_“Jafar!”_ Jasmine cried out as a devastating orgasm crashed through her body, bolting straight up in bed. She gasped for breath as her heart thrummed hard in her chest. The sensation continued to pulse through her body, echoing through every inch of her until it slowly began to fade, leaving her shaking in its wake.

For several moments, she just sat there in the darkness of her room, coming to terms with what had just happened.

She had dreamt of him…

...and been brought to a devastating pleasure by him.

_What was happening to her?_

She pushed her tangled hair out of her face, trying to steady her breathing. Her ever-familiar room suddenly looked dark and strange, like the space had been altered somehow by her new desires.

Her breathing began to even out as her heartbeat slowed.

“Well... _that_ was unexpected.” A low voice hissed from the shadows.

She screamed.

He was there, waiting in the darkness.

Jasmine scrambled back in her bed, her back hitting her ornate headboard.

“What are you- _get out! Guards!_ ” She yelled frantically, yanking her thin sheet up to her shoulders as she shrank away from him.

He answered with a low chuckle, remaining perfectly still in the shadows.

“Foolish princess. Do you think I haven’t ensured our solitude? There are no guards to help you now.”

“What- what have you done to them?” Jasmine stuttered in horror.

“Do not concern yourself, your highness,” Jafar smirked, stepping into a sliver of moonlight, “They will wake in the morning with no memory of this night. The would-be assassin has been dealt with, and I see no need for further violence. It wouldn’t serve my plans to start a war within the palace.”

Jasmine clutched her sheet tighter to her, barely breathing as his sinister face was thrown into sharp relief by the waning light. 

“What do you mean?” She asked in a voice much smaller than she’d hoped.

Jafar answered in a deceptively light tone.

“Don’t you know? If you steal something by force, you spend your whole life fighting to keep it. Far too much dirty work for me, I’m afraid.” At this, his expression took on a predatory smile. “I’d rather take your father’s kingdom in a subtler way- it’s more, well- _me_.”

She gasped in outrage and for a moment, forgot where she was.

“How dare you, you... twisted, _lying_ usurper! You will _never_ sit on my father’s throne!” She hissed, sitting up on her haunches. She frantically tried to wrack her mind for where something, _anything_ , might be that she could use as a weapon.

The vizier advanced upon her, gliding through the shadows.

“Are you not the _slightest_ bit curious as to where you fit in my plan? You are quite an important piece in my little game.” He said softly, in a voice that she knew held a twisted smile.

“Spare me your delusions of grandeur, Jafar.” She spat, sliding one leg out of bed in preparation to run. Her nightgown didn’t follow and instead bunched up, leaving her leg bare. His eyes snapped to the exposed skin, lingering before flickering back to meet her gaze. 

All the heat and confusion of her dream came rushing back to her, and she nearly faltered as she moved to stand. 

“Are you perfectly well, your highness? You seem a bit...flushed.” He murmured, mouth rising on one side in a smirk.

“I’d be better if I didn’t have a pathetic, disgusting traitor in my chambers.” She retorted, reaching slowly behind her for the heavy lantern on her bedside table. Perhaps if she got him angry enough, he would be distracted…

He didn’t take the bait. 

“I might believe your words, if you hadn’t been screaming my name mere moments ago.” 

“ _How dare you_ -” she shrieked, but he had suddenly crossed the room, towering over her, and her words died in her throat.

“Do you think I didn’t know you were there in the dungeon, watching me? I know everything, little princess, all of your darkest thoughts.” He whispered, advancing towards her. “You want to be controlled, don’t you? To be trapped and helpless while I _take what I want_?”

“That’s not- I don’t-” Jasmine stammered, suddenly finding it hard to focus on what was happening. He was so tall, so commanding- desire began to mingle with her fury. She shook her head angrily at herself - she _couldn’t_ be doing this. Then, mercifully, her hand reached the lantern behind her.

She grabbed it and swung. 

The harsh clang of her makeshift weapon meeting Jafar’s golden staff resonated deafeningly as it clattered to the floor. His kohl-rimmed eyes narrowed as they slid from the staff in his hand back to her frantic gaze.

For a moment there was silence, save for her ragged breaths.

“That, your highness, was a mistake.”

Suddenly she was lifted from her feet, weightless as she glided through the air- she winced as her back hit her stone chamber wall. Panic laced with desire coursed through her as something wound its way around her wrists and slithered over her ankles- the realization nearly leveled her...those luminescent red ropes from her dream.

But she wasn’t dreaming.

The ropes of light somehow felt rough against her skin as she strained against them, mind reeling.

“Jafar- release me _at once_ -” She gasped, trying to focus on her diminishing anger as impossible desire coiled in her chest.

“I think not.” He stated, standing back and taking in her struggling form with smoldering eyes, “Who am I to deny a princess her innermost desires?” He mused. 

Lust spiked through her at his suggestive words. Straining against her bonds, she barely held on to the last scraps of anger she had- she knew she should be fighting for her life against this treacherous enemy of the state, but it was becoming harder and harder to deny what she truly wanted.

The glowing ropes at her wrists and ankles tightened slightly. It seemed that the more she struggled, the more she was held in place- it only made her desire more achingly urgent. Her thin nightgown slipped slightly off of her shoulder, and she was incredibly aware of how little material was between her and this torturous, maddening man.

Jafar stepped directly in front of her, still towering down at her even though she was held aloft. His smirk grew deeper as he took in her struggling form, dragging his eyes along the revealing garment that was her last line of defense.

He drew a finger along her chin, slowly, like a predator toying with their prey.

“You’re vile-” She gasped, though she leaned into his touch.

“Tut tut,” the vizier chided, “If you’d simply stayed in your room like a good little princess-”

Here he hooked a finger into her nightgown to reveal a single breast. She gasped as a rush of wetness gathered between her thighs.

He paused as he seemed to be momentarily at a loss for words- his eyes darkened as he drank in the sight of her exposed breast, pert and pointed with need. 

“ - you’d never have known how _deliciously deviant_ you are.” He lowered his head and then his mouth was on her like a man half-starved- his tongue dragged along her sensitive peak as she gasped in response, arching into him.

She moaned as he bit the tip, sending pleasure tinged with pain racing through her chest. A large hand came up to knead her breast as he laid claim to it, kissing and biting every bit of skin. Despite herself, she let out a desperate sigh as she craned to be closer to his attentions.

She could feel him smirk against her chest.

“Eager, are we?” He said in a smooth voice, and pulled back for a moment. She almost cried out in protest, but managed to keep her lips sealed to preserve her dignity. He arched an eyebrow at her, and she knew he was aware of the effort she was making to restrain herself. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and she closed her eyes in shame.

This did not deter him, and he brought his other hand to join at her chest. The loud sound of fabric ripping and the sudden rush of air told her that he’d torn the front of her nightgown open.

She blinked and opened her eyes, in time to see him gather her breasts in both hands, staring at them with a hunger she’d never seen.

“Of all the treasure in Agrabah… you are the rarest,” He breathed, before seeming to compose himself, “And I am the victor to whom go the spoils.” He finished, fixing her with a sinister grin before viciously claiming the untouched breast. He wasn’t gentle- he held her with a bruising touch, and his teeth left red, raised marks in their wake.

“Do you see these?” Jafar hissed, shaking her so that she followed his gaze to the scars of his attentions, “These mark you as _mine-_ when I am Sultan, you will be the greatest prize in my possession- and despite all your protesting words, you will choose to remain by my side. Because no one else can give you what you _need_ , little princess.”

He punctuated his words with harsh kisses along her exposed neck, as his fine robes brushed against her raw breasts.

She keened against him, arching her neck while continuing to struggle at her restraints. He grabbed her breasts and roughly pinched the peaks, sending a rush of wetness between her thighs. Despite herself, she began rubbing her thighs together, desperate for sensation.

Jafar reacted to the way her body moved, and brought his head down for a sinful, open mouthed kiss. It was electrifying. Without thinking, she angled her head to give him better access.

“You’re mine,” He whispered threateningly, and she couldn’t deny the thrill she felt at his words.

But she wouldn’t let him know that.

“I am not-” She breathed between kisses, “a prize to won- you will _never_ own me, you _snake_.”

He chuckled to himself, then grabbed the front of her nightgown, ripping down the remainder of the fabric and pushing it to her sides.

She was completely exposed.

Her chest heaved as her mind reeled. 

She was naked, vulnerable beyond her darkest dreams- for her hated enemy.

He stared at her for what seemed like an eternity, memorizing every curve, every peak and valley of her straining body. He slowly sank down to his knees in front of her bare form, his voice a silken threat.

“A snake, am I? Perhaps you’d like to see how _snakelike I can be_.”

Before she could scream, his mouth found her core. 

Her entire world stopped as his tongue swept along her soaked seam, his hands gripping her upper thighs and clamping them firmly in place as he tortured her with his mouth.

All shreds of sanity snapped within her as he delved deeper and deeper inside her, licking and kissing her most intimate place. He drank her in like a man dying of thirst, flattening his tongue along her clit and sending devastating pleasure coursing through every inch of her. She moved frantically against the glowing ropes, gasping desperately.

He seemed to understand her as she bucked her hips towards him, and added a strong finger alongside his tongue, working and pulling within her as she gave herself to him.

The languid strokes of his finger in tandem with his mouth began to work her into a haze of pleasure as he continued his tongue’s relentless attack.

He moved to bring two fingers to either side of her dripping core, spreading her open for better access. His tongue flicked and teased at her clit, sending her entire body shaking with every motion. She choked on a sob as he hummed in self satisfaction against her skin.

“Such a pretty cunt,” He murmured to himself, “and so divinely responsive…” Here he paused to lash his tongue at her abused clit, smirking as her body jerked in reaction.

She looked down at him through fluttering eyelids, watching helplessly as the tall, imposing man worked her to impossible pleasure on his knees.

The slivers of moonlight and the dull glow of the ropes threw him into a disorienting shadow, but she could still make out the lines and angles of the sinister face she knew so well.

How could this be happening?

How could this man, a person she’d sworn to hate, give her the most desperate pleasure she’d ever know?

Why didn’t she want him to stop?

He seemed to hear her thoughts, and opened his kohl rimmed eyes to stare heatedly up at her, his gaze meeting hers obscenely while his tongue worshipped her core. 

It was the most erotic thing she’d ever seen.

She couldn’t hold back anymore- _it was too much-_

A raw scream ripped itself from her throat as she came for him. The edges of her vision whited out as her world narrowed down to his mouth, his hands, and his eyes.

Her body shook violently and then went limp, the only thing that stopped her from falling was the tension of the ropes on her limbs.

He closed his eyes and let out a huff of air, still kneeling in front of her prone form.

Then, he drew himself up to his full height.

The ropes around one of her legs suddenly began to lift, bringing it back and forcing her knee to bend to one side so that she was splayed completely open to him.

“What are you doing?” She whispered in fascination, blood rushing to her face at the new level of exposure.

He didn’t answer for a moment, his dark eyes fixated on her glistening seam.

She squirmed under his gaze, barely processing the reality of being completely on display.

“Taking what is mine.” 

Without warning, he brought a strong hand to her core again, delving into her with two fingers. She couldn’t help herself- she let her head fall to his chest as she was overcome with pleasure.

His fingers curled within her, reaching that delicious, impossible spot- she was losing herself in his touch.

She barely registered the sound of fabric rustling as she ground into his long fingers, riding his palm with abandon.

Then his fingers paused and retreated.

She let out a whine of protest at the loss, but then- _oh, God-_

He was inside her.

Stars passed over her vision as his length pushed deep within her, filling her in ways she’d never dreamed. 

It leveled her.

She arched into him, gasping as he let out a shuddering breath. Slowly, he pulled out of her, and then equally as slowly, he pressed forward and slid even deeper than before.

He braced a strong arm on the wall behind her, bringing the other to cup her hip as he began languidly pumping within her.

“ _Fuck_ , that cunt...” Jafar breathed raggedly, gazing down at where his shaft met her tight, slick heat.

She let out a luxurious moan, snapping her hips to his, and he pressed into her all the harder. He established a slow, steady pace, bringing his gaze up to watch her face.

“Ah, the plans I have for you...” He murmured.

He traced his hand up from her hip, to the curve of her waist and up to her breast. He pinched the tip hard and smirked when she yelped.

“You will become my queen _willingly_ , highness.”

She gasped despite herself, shocked at how her heart leapt at his words. Her wide eyes met his narrow ones and locked on as he suddenly stopped his thrusts and waved a hand at the ropes. They ripped themselves off the wall, and she was suspended in mid air-

And then sent gliding to her ornate bed. The ropes kept their firm hold on her, and she was forced to bend at the waist over the bed, hands tied underneath her.

The ropes at her ankles slowly brought her legs apart, so that her backside was fully presented to the sinister man. Her heart pounded in her chest as she struggled against the ropes.

He followed closely behind, the rustling sound of his cloak’s heavy fabric the only sound save for her heavy breathing.

Jasmine arched her back as she felt his hands run up the back of her legs and squeeze her ass. One hand dipped between her legs at her swollen sex and teased her, as the other came to wrap gently around her throat.

Her heart was beating so hard, she felt it would burst out of her chest. The sensation of his large hand wrapped so carefully around her neck- threatening, but somehow impossibly erotic at the same time- was overwhelming.

She lifted her hips to meet his hand, gasping as he added a third finger. The attentions at this new angle were intoxicating, and she bucked back against his hand, searching for more connection. 

Then, the hand at her core retreated.

His thick shaft suddenly filled her again, and she let out a scream of pleasure as he fucked into her. It was almost too much to take.

He bent over her, hissing in her ear.

“Mark my words, _highness_ , you will _beg_ to be my queen. And do you know why?” He demanded viciously as his hot length pounded into her wet core.

The hand at her throat stroked a languid thumb along her pulse, and she shuddered as a chill ran down her spine. He was thrusting mercilessly now, and she brought her hips back up to meet him, thrust for thrust.

A groan of pleasure escaped him before he continued.

“No one will ever fuck you the way I do. _No one_ , do you hear?” He hissed, punctuating his threat with torturous thrusts. She choked on a sob of pleasure and desperation.

Every movement was beautiful torture- it was completely overwhelming, but she couldn’t stop. She didn’t want to stop. His shaft pumped into her again and again, each time bringing her pleasure higher. 

His hand curled tighter around her throat as he pounded brutally into her cunt. At this angle, he reached deeper into her than she’d ever dreamed possible.

His free hand ran up and down the length of her bare form, sliding along the side of her breast, gripping her hip hard enough to bruise. 

The glowing ropes followed her movement as she spread herself further apart for him, aching for more. 

He let out a guttural growl in response, and without warning, flipped her over.

She was spread eagle on the bed for him, dark hair fanning across the sheets as he braced himself over her with one arm.

“And now,” He breathed, “I’m going to make you come for me, princess.” 

He slid his hard length into her. She arched her back as her mouth opened in a silent scream. He was a man possessed- again and again he fucked into her, picking up to a devastating pace.

His free hand came down to tease her abused clit as his shaft hit the perfect spot within her. Her legs shook with each thrust as she writhed against her restraints.

It was everything. 

He loomed over her, her darkest nightmare and her most thrilling dream. She never wanted him to stop. She reeled in the sensation of being so controlled, so trapped and helpless against this dark figure of desire.

His sinful fingers worked her into a pleasure precipice; she was standing on the edge of a cliff and ready to fall, ready to damn herself to any fate.

Tears of pleasure pricked at her eyes as she gasped for air.

“Come for me.” He commanded softly, eyes fixated on hers.

She couldn’t take it-

“ _Come for me, my queen._ ”

She fell into oblivion.

_“Jafar!”_

His name echoed in her mind again and again as her vision whited out as her eyes closed- distantly, she realized it was her own voice, screaming for him as she came harder than she had ever come in her entire life.

“Fuck, yes, _you’re mine-_ ” He gasped as he came within her. His hips jerked into hers, shuddering before becoming still.

Her heartbeat stuttered as it came down from her high, and she slowly opened her eyes.

The ropes had vanished, though she knew not when- and she found that she had wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to him for dear life. 

She blinked her surprised eyes at him, not sure what would happen next. The impossible had happened, and she didn’t know where it left her.

To her shock, he leaned down and gave her another intoxicating kiss, and then leaned to speak in her ear.

“ _Willingly_ , your highness.” He reminded her softly, and then pulled away from her. He drew himself to his full height, subtly adjusting his robes and showing no evidence of his carnal actions.

He took a moment to drag his gaze across her still-splayed form, and then met her eyes once more.

“Until tomorrow then, princess. Pleasant dreams.” He smirked, and drew back into the shadows. 

She raised herself up on one shaking arm to retort, but she was alone.

Slowly, she laid back down, mind reeling.

_Willingly..._

She raised a hand to touch her lips, still burning from his kiss.

Willingly, indeed.

  
  



End file.
